Sins
by armlessphelan
Summary: Unpleasant people do equally unpleasant things to get their way. Sonny is lost to anger and bitterness over the fact that his husband Will no longer wants him. Meanwhile, Paul is trying to move on with life, and Tripp might be just the distraction he needs to do it. However, Ciara is out to destroy Claire and doesn't care about collateral damage.
1. Chapter 1

Saying that Ciara Brady was angry was like saying the Sahara Desert was hot. She glared at her phone instead of her niece. For most, it would be odd that Claire Brady was the same age as her aunt Ciara, but in a town like Salem it was just the tip of the iceberg of weird.

"Theo said that South Africa is gorgeous. He can only see it from the windows of the clinic, but still. And he really misses me. I miss him, too."

Ciara really was trying her damnedest to not eavesdrop on Claire's conversation with their roommate Tripp, but Claire's voice was so high and shrill that any dog in the area would wince in pain.

For his part, Tripp looked just as miserable as Ciara felt. She had no sympathy for the man: it was his own damn fault that he wasn't happy. Everyone knew he was in love with Claire, even the dumbass herself, but he was not making his move. Theo Carver, Claire's boyfriend and the love of Ciara's life, was on another continent and Tripp was still being polite and respecting Claire and Theo's relationship. It made Ciara sick.

As she tried not to watch Claire and Tripp, as she tried not to listen to Claire talk about Theo, Ciara had an idea. It was horrible. It could very well be the most despicable thing that Ciara could do to another person. It would destroy that bitch Claire and Tripp's sappy ass the same way Ciara was destroyed when she came back to town and Theo outright rejected her.

It was perfect. The only problem was that Ciara couldn't do it alone. She needed help. She needed someone who would understand what she was doing and why she would do it. It would have to be someone as bitter and broken as Ciara herself: someone who would be able to get what she needed without being traced by cops or private investigators. And she had the perfect person in mind.

Grinning, Ciara looked up from her cell phone and watched her niece flirt with Tripp while talking about Theo. She was going to make them pay: they were never going to see it coming and they deserved every bit of suffering they were going to get.

DOOL

Sometimes, when it rained, Paul Narita's shoulder hurt. It had been years since his surgery, since he had retired from baseball and left behind the life he had put decades of work into. But the days when his shoulder ached were nothing compared to the way his heart hurt every time he saw Sonny Kiriakis.

The love of Paul's life was Sonny: it had had always been Sonny. Even when they weren't together and Paul was on the road, sleeping his closeted way through the men of America, he always woke up hoping the stranger in his hotel room bed was the Kiriakis man. Once, Paul and Sonny had even almost been married. Then Sonny's husband upended everything.

As much as Paul loved Sonny, Sonny loved Will Horton. Will was who Sonny wanted by his side, even after the multiple infidelities and a two year-long stint where everyone thought he was dead. Sonny didn't want Paul. Ironically, Will didn't want Sonny.

Hell, Will didn't even remember Sonny. Whatever happened to him during those missing years had erased Will's memories of everyone who loved him. All he knew was what people told him. And Will knew about how his marriage with Sonny wasn't the fairy tale that Sonny had promised him. Will knew of the affairs. And one of those affairs was with Paul himself.

When Will had asked Paul about the affair, Paul had been honest. He had told Will all about it, something Sonny refused to do. An because of that, Will didn't want Sonny. He wanted Paul. After all, they'd had a relationship of sorts before, why not again? And because of that, because of Will, Sonny now hated Paul. He only looked at his ex-fiance with contempt. That hurt.

So, Paul tried to move on. He tried dating other men, even sleeping with a few of them. It didn't work. Just like when he had been on the road, Paul woke up hoping the stranger was Sonny. The only difference was that he was out this time, so he wasn't buying silence after. It was an emphatically unhappy time in Paul's life.

He kept at it, anyway. Waiting for Sonny was pointless, and it was never going to happen with Will. Sooner or later, there would be a man who would change Paul's life. And he would change it for the better. He had to believe it.

And with that thought, Paul grabbed his coat and headed out for a night on the town.

DOOL

There were days when Tripp Dalton wondered why he stayed in Salem. He had no friends, not really. There was just Claire. Though, to him, she was far more than a friend. But that's all she would let him be and she let him know it by making a point of mentioning her boyfriend Theo whenever possible.

Aside from Claire, the only other person who seemed to like Tripp was his father Steve Johnson. Tripp hadn't been in Steve's life long, however, and Tripp hadn't exactly been a good son when he moved to town. But Steve was trying. It was just hard to determine what was genuine affection and what was just guilt. It definitely didn't help that Tripp's stepmother Kayla clearly didn't like him, though he couldn't blame her. He had come to town with the intention of ruining Kayla and nearly succeeded in doing just that.

Knowing nobody liked Tripp was why he decided to try spending a night in a place where nobody knew his name or his face. Doug's Place was out of the question, so he managed to bluff his way past the bouncer and into a club called Unicorn Highway.

It was five minutes before someone bought Tripp his first drink, and five more before he realized there were no women in the bar. A few gentlemen engaged him in conversation and Tripp acquiesced for more free booze. He even flirted with the good-looking ones because he liked the morale boost. A handful tried to get him to dance but he would just laugh and tell them he had two left feet. One even whispered lurid promises in his ear alongside an invitation for nightly companionship, but he awkwardly turned the guy down.

By the time Midnight rolled around, Tripp was drunk enough and loose enough to be on the dance floor with other hard-bodied men. He enjoyed that nobody was actively looking away from him. If anything, he had become the centre of attention. Then someone ruined everything. Some random blond twink grabbed Tripp's ass and gave it a hard squeeze. If he had been sober, Tripp probably would have let it go. But he wasn't, so he whirled around and punched the guy in the face.

The dance floor began to clear as everyone backed away from Tripp. It took some blinking for Tripp to realize he recognized the man on the floor, though he couldn't place how.

"WILL!" A man with dark hair broke through the crowd and knelt down next to the twink. He began fussing over the blond guy, but was rebuffed, so he turned his attention to Tripp. The second man also seemed familiar, but Tripp didn't know how. "What the fuck did you do?"

"He wouldn't keep his hands to himself," Tripp answered, as though it was all the explanation anyone needed.

The man responded by standing up and getting into Tripp's face. "If you ever touch my husband again, I will kill you."

Tripp laughed.

Before things could go any further, the man on the floor finally spoke. "Sonny, what are you even doing here? Did you follow me? Seriously? Just leave me alone already."

"I was worried about you, Will!" Sonny exclaimed before pointing a finger in Tripp's face. "And I was right to worry! This low class thug attacked you!"

Annoyed, Tripp smacked Sonny's hand away. "Never refer to me as a thug again."

"You aren't even a real person," Sonny challenged while Will used a nearby bear to pull himself up. "You won't mean a thing to me or my husband in another fifteen minutes. You're that insignificant. Now go away before I have to make you."

Even though he didn't feel threatened, just annoyed, Tripp rolled his eyes and walked away. The sea of men between him and the exit parted, but it was still blocked. Standing in the doorway way Paul Narita. Tripp remembered him from when he watched followed baseball, but he also knew that Paul worked at Black Patch, the private investigation firm that Tripp's dad ran with Paul's dad.

Paul's focus was not on Tripp. Tripp followed his line of sight and saw that Paul was staring right at the douche named Sonny. Sonny glared hatefully at Paul for a few seconds, it was so chilling that Tripp shivered, then began to fuss over Will again tried to make it clear he wanted to be left alone.

Deciding it wasn't his business anymore, Tripp tried to squeeze past Paul. "Excuse me."

A hand grabbed his arm.

"You're Tripp, right? Steve's son?" Paul was still looking at Sonny, even as he spoke to Tripp. "What happened? How did you even get in here? Last I knew, you weren't old enough to drink."

After jerking free, Tripp stepped up to Paul so that he couldn't see Sonny anymore. It seemed to break whatever spell Paul had been under because he blinked and actually looked into Tripp's eyes.

That was when Tripp felt it. It was a heat in his face, just below the skin. He couldn't name it, just feel it, but it was there. And Tripp knew that if he let himself continue to feel whatever he was feeling, if he didn't walk away from Paul Narita and never look back, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

"I can tell you all about it over breakfast," Tripp whispered as he leaned in so close he could feel Paul's breath on his lips. Paul nervously licked those lips but never broke the eye contact with Tripp. "The only question is whether we're having it at your place or mine."

DOOL

All things considered, Sonny Kiriakis was surprised he wasn't more furious. Instead, he just sat in the dark drawing room of the Kiriakis mansion and drank his scotch. The moonlight coming through the windows was illumination enough for his darkened mood.

Why did life see fit to keep kicking him when he was down?

"Knock knock." A woman entered the drawing room and turned on a lamp. Sonny quickly covered his eyes and she softly laughed. "Don't you know it's bad to sit in the dark?"

"Ciara?" Sonny blinked until he could see, then visually confirmed that it was his cousin. He had no idea why she was at the mansion, especially so late. Or, perhaps, so early. "What do you want?"

Smirking, she sat on the sofa across from Sonny and reached out, snatching his tumbler of scotch and down it before he could react. With a self-satisfied grin, she sat the glass on the table and regarded her cousin with what he could only describe as dangerous eyes.

"I'm here to see you, believe it or not." Ciara leaned back into the sofa and her grin melted into a smirk. "How are things going?"

The whole thing was... weird. Sonny and Ciara had never had a real conversation, and now she was sitting with him at 4 in the morning like it was no big deal. He was suspicious but also intrigued.

"Not well. Why do you care?"

"We're family. We should always care about each other." Ciara ran a hand through her hair and her bangs fell loose, covering her right eye. "If there's ever anything I can do to help you, just let me know. Please."

"Can you get my husband to love me again?" Sonny began to chuckle, but it quickly turned into a low growl.

Shaking her head, Ciara looked down into her purse and produced her phone. "Will? Hmm. I don't know. Perhaps there's something I can do."

Angry, Sonny slammed a fist on the table, knocking the tumbler to the floor. Ciara was unbothered. "My life is not a joke."

"And I'm not laughing," Ciara replied, dead serious. "I've done my homework, Sonny. I know that Will won't come back to you because of your ex, Paul. He's obsessed with him."

"He's just sick is all."

"As you say. And you're his husband. His next of kin."

"Yeah. And?"

"And your marriage was never annulled. Will 'died' before the divorce was finalized. That means you have say over his medical care." Ciara bent down and picked up the tumbler. She played with it for a few seconds. "You can get Will the help he needs, whether he wants it or not. Why, if you got him the right doctor, or the right medication, he would just forget all about Paul Narita and remember only you."

"That sounds shady, Ciara. I don't know if I can do that," Sonny reasoned, even as the wheels in his brain began turning.

"Of course you can. Like I said, you're his husband."

"Okay, fine, say I go along with this." Sonny leaned forward and snatched the tumbler from Ciara, then stood and went to refill it. "Where do you come into play? You said that you could help me, but it sounds like I would be doing all the work."

"That's easy. See, in order to get Will the help he needs, he needs to be a threat to himself or others. And lusting after a hunky retired baseball player isn't exactly dangerous." Ciara crossed the room, joining Sonny and filling her own tumbler of scotch. "You need to establish a pattern of bizarre behaviour. Maybe have him rough someone up. Like, say, his teenage cousin who just graduated from high school."

Ciara threw back another scotch and all Sonny could do was watch her. "My mother is the chief of police, Sonny. All I need is one black eye and for Will to have no alibi, and he's as good as yours. That is, if you want him. Can you really sleep at night, knowing that your poor husband is roaming the streets at night in his condition? When you could have gotten him to a doctor, but didn't?"

"Okay, say I go along with this. What do you get out of it? Because I know you aren't here offering to get punched in the face just to help me." Sonny took a sip and enjoyed the burn as the liquor made its way down his throat. "What is your angle?"

"That's simple. See, you want to save someone, but me? I want to destroy someone. I want to ruin her in the worst possible way, but to do that I need help. Your help."

"And what can I possible do to help you?" Sonny wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the late hour, but his conversation with Ciara was beginning to amuse him. "Who would I be helping you destroy?"

"Oh, see, you don't need to know who or how. Plausible deniability, my dear cousin. All I need is for you to use your Kiriakis connections to secure something for me. One little drug, and then I'll make sure you have everything you need to win Will back."

Finally, Sonny smiled. He refilled Ciara's glass, then held his up in the air. She clinked hers against his and they drank together. Again, he felt the burn, but the smile never left his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Paul watched Tripp as he slept. He had... He had thought the young man straight until the night before. Tripp had come onto him out of nowhere, and he had done it hard. There was a part of Paul that wanted nothing to do with him. Closet cases were nothing but trouble: he had learned lesson back when he still was one. However, there was another part that was intrigued by the man in his bed. For the first time in years, Paul had awoken without checking to see if Sonny was in his bed

A finger ran along Tripp's bare back, tracing the ridges of his spine, but the man did not stir. He was sleeping the sleep of the dead. After what they'd done the night before, Paul couldn't fault him. He was surprised to find himself awake. It would be an even bigger surprise if Tripp could walk without any bowing of the legs.

There was a knock at the door, pulling Paul from his increasingly sordid daydreaming. As reluctant as he was to leave the warmth of the bed and the body in it, Paul climbed out and wrapped the loose sheet around his waist. When he opened the door, Paul immediately wished he had just stayed in bed.

"Good morning to you, too," Will purred, licking his lips as he ran his eyes up and down Paul's exposed frame. "I was in the neighbourhood, considered inviting you out for breakfast. Staying in is fine with me, though."

Without waiting for an invitation, Will pushed past Paul and strode into the apartment. He stopped dead in his tracks the moment he saw a man sleeping in Paul's bed.

"Is that the guy from last night?" Will asked, though the question seemed to be more for himself than for Paul. Turning around, Will stared into Paul's eyes. He seemed hurt, though there was no reason for it. It had been made clear on multiple occasions that Paul was not and would never be interested in Will. "Did you really sleep with this guy?"

"That's not really your business," Paul sighed. Rather than look at the needlessly pained look on Will's face, Paul instead looked at the ceiling. "We are not together, Will. We never will be. I'm fine being your friend, but you need to chill out. If you don't accept reality, we can't be friends. The choice is yours."

"He attacked me, Paul." Will's voice cracked, but Paul remained resolute and stared at a dusty string from a cobweb. "Last night, at Unicorn Highway. He punched me for just bumping into him! He's dangerous, Paul. Not a good person. You need to be careful."

"You should leave now."

"But Paul..."

Paul held a hand up, cutting Will off. He tore his eyes from the cobweb and looked at the other man's face. There was real fear there, which caught Paul off guard. Something told him, however, that the source of Will's fear was not Tripp.

"I do appreciate your concern, Will, but you still need to go." Paul was doing his damnedest to be gentle with how he handled Will. The last thing he needed was for him to start yelling and wake Tripp up, especially if there was any truth to his claim. "I can take care of myself."

"Fine. Whatever." Will looked from Paul, to Tripp, to the door, then back to Paul. "But Paul? I did try to warm you. A person like that, a violent thug, he wouldn't think twice about hurting you like he did me.

"I hope that, for your sake, this was a one time thing."

*Goodbye, Will." Again, Paul was being gentle, but he was also firm. He walked back to the door and opened it for the intruder.

Will offered one last pleading look before leaving. Paul closed the door behind him, and then he locked it. He pressed his forehead against the cool wood of the door and sighed. Why couldn't he even enjoy a one night stand without drama erupting?

"That's only half the story."

Paul whirled around and saw Tripp sitting up. His chest was heaving with controlled rage.

"Yeah, I decked that guy last night. He had it coming for grabbing my ass.

It was impossible for Paul to not burst out laughing, so he didn't even try. Tripp was not as used but Paul didn't care.

"Was that your first time in a gay bar or something? An ass grabbing is more common than a handshake."

"Actually, it was," Tripp answered. He tilted his head and looked Paul over. It didn't feel degrading like when Will would do it. This felt more like he was a puzzle Tripp was trying to solve. "Last night was my first time at a gay anything."

"It was your first time?" Paul approached the bed, but didn't join Tripp in it. "It certainly seemed like you knew what you were doing."

"I've banged chicks before," Tripp replied with a shrug. His anger was now quickly draining away. "Last night was new. Good, but different."

Paul was confused. "You're taking this really well."

It was Tripp's turn to laugh, though his was more of a chuckle. "It's sex. Man, woman, who cares? It's not like it's the 1990s anymore. Most folks don't give a shit. As long as everyone involved is cool, that's what should matter. Which is why I pretended to be asleep until your little friend left. Whether it's common or not, what he did isn't cool. It was sexual harassment."

"You're right. I'm sorry I laughed. Will was out of line last night. Was that what he and Sonny were fighting about last night? You punching Will?" Paul dropped the sheet and climbed back into the bed.

Tripp's face grew dark at the mention of Sonny. It wasn't anger, not like what Paul had seen after Will left. This was something deeper. Something dangerous, and not in a thrilling way. Paul flashed back to Will's warning.

"Sonny? Will's husband? Yeah. I got into it with him. He threatened me. If those two are any indication as to how the rest of the gay men in this town act, I think I'm just gonna stick to women. My family is gonna bitch less, anyway. I don't know about you Asians, but we Italians? We live for the screaming and the crying. And I don't need that if I can avoid it."

"'We Asians,' as you put it, we aren't strangers to drama. We just try not to broadcast it. Or, at least, the Japanese don't. I can't speak for anyone else. There's not an Asian hive mind. And I can assure that there is nobody else like Will on Sonny on this planet, gay or straight."

Tripp looked at Paul out of the corner of his eye and smiled. The action was simple, but it put Paul at ease.

"Okay, you've convinced me." 

Days

Patience was not one of Ciara's strongest skills. Sonny had agreed to her deal, but had dictated his own terms. Things had to progress by his time table, and he refused to let her know what it was. He just told her to wait, that he would pull the trigger when the time was right.

That was all well and good, but in the meantime she had to listen to Claire yap about how worried she was because Tripp had spent the whole night out and wasn't answering her calls. She so badly wanted to throttle the banshee, if for no other reason than to silence the incessant screeching.

"He's a grown ass man," Ciara reminded the twit. She didn't even try to hide her disdain for Claire. In fact, she reveled in it. "Maybe he's just getting laid. At least one of us should be."

"Don't say that!" Claire wailed while punching in Tripp's number for what must have been the fortieth time. "He's not answering his phone, Ciara! He could be hurt! Or dead!"

"I should be so lucky."

"WHAT?!" Claire cried out before throwing her phone in frustration. It wasn't immediately clear if she had heard Ciara or not.

"Never mind," Ciara grumbled while the door to the flat opened.

The sound Claire emitted almost caused Ciara to go deaf. The annoying blonde woman ran to their returned roommate Tripp and threw her arms around him, halfway to hysterical at the sight of him.

"Did I miss something?" Tripp asked as he wrapped his arms around Claire and held her close. The smile pn his face was the perfect balance to Claire's shrill sobbing and Ciara's twitchy eye.

"She thought you were dead in a ditch," Ciara explained slowly so that the neanderthal and the human ostrich might understand her. "Me? I assumed you were balls deep in a hooker. But looking at you now? I don't even think you could get pussy if you paid for it."

With a groan, Claire released Tripp and turned to face Ciara. She looked about as threatening as an alpaca with an extra chromosome. "Why are you always so mean? This is why nobody likes you! You're just a lazy bitch who lays around all day letting her mom pay her rent while the rest of us actually have to work."

"You're just jealous that my mom loves me. Yours dumped you here and ran off to another continent. Just like Theo!" Ciara laughed.

"I hate you. I never should've added you to the lease."

"Yeah, but you did. So you're stuck with me." Ciara was really enjoying winding up her niece. It was such a simple pleasure, but it was also a finite one. Soon enough, Ciara's plan would be put into action. And if everything went as it should, Claire and Tripp would both end up leaving Salem forever. 

Days 

Board meetings were insufferably dull. Some days, they were enough of an irritant that Sonny wished he were still running his nightclub with Chad. Instead, they had closed it down and joined their respective family businesses. Now all he did was go to meetings and answer phone calls. When he was lucky enough to be spared those particular indignities, he found himself moving numbers from one spreadsheet to another. Titan Industries was deathly boring.

When a phone call from an unknown number interrupted his attempt to stay awake, Sonny happily excused himself from the meeting. His cousin Brady had been speaking with shareholders when Sonny left, so he considered the clueless-yet-offended look on the man's face to be a bonus.

"Sonny Kiriakis. Talk to me." It really didn't matter that he didn't know who was calling. All that mattered was that he was in an empty hallway and not an uncomfortable chair.

"It's me, Boss." The woman's voice was immediately recognizable. "I've got some bad news."

"You haven't been seen, have you?" Sonny asked nervously. He couldn't risk anyone knowing she was back in town, let alone connected to him.

"Nobody knows I'm here," she assured him. "But Will? I followed him just like you wanted. He went to Paul's place this morning. I hate to say it, but Paul wasn't wearing anything when he answered the door. No, wait, actually, I like saying it. Nude was pretty much naked and it was HOT. I mean, you already know this, but that Paul Narita is one fine ass piece of man."

"What is the point?" Sonny bit back a growl. He really wondered why he hired this woman. Her experience was a great benefit, but her personality might wind up being a detriment if things went on too long.

"Right. The point. See, here's the thing: I know you hired me to tail Will, but he didn't stay at Paul's long. When he left, he was angry with Paul. Fuming. And maybe even a little scared. And since I don't have X-ray vision or super hearing, I don't know why. But Will is still not happy with Paul right now, and that is good news for you."

"Whether it's good for me or not isn't your concern. You just need to keep me updated on what Will is doing. And I need for you to find out just what Paul did to him today. But be subtle about it. And don't get caught."

With that, Sonny ended the call. He looked at the door to the boardroom before walking away. He didn't have time for stuffy old suits. His operative would do what he needed, she was very good at getting things done, but she wasn't the only tool at his disposal.

He would find out what what Paul did to Will. He would determine what the wedge was between them, and then he would hit it with the biggest hammer he could find. Paul and Will would be split for good, and anyone who got between Sonny and his husband had better pray to god for mercy because he would show them none.

Days

"Hey, Son."

Tripp let the door to the Brady Pub close behind him, and joined his father at a nearby table. He hadn't known Steve Johnson long. The weekly lunch dates were supposed to be a way to rectify that.

"Dad," he said noncommittally. The lunch date had been planned for at least a week, but his mind was elsewhere. Claire had hugged him when he got home. For a moment, just a moment, they held each other and it was almost like she was his. It was almost like they were together. Then Ciara had opened her mouth. And as Claire defended him, he wondered why she was so passionate about him, but not with him.

But his mind also wandered back to the night prior. Paul's breath on the back of his neck, his weight pushing Tripp into the bed, the feeling of fingers sliding in and out of his mouth as other things slid elsewhere: the memories alone were enough to make him feel drunk.

As Tripp's brain flitted back and forth between his love of Claire and his night with Paul, he felt heavy. Guilty. And he had no idea why.

"Hey, the lady's talking to you." Steve reached across the table and nudged his son. "She asked if you want anything to drink?"

Blinking, Tripp realized he hadn't heard a word the waitress said. After offering a quick apology, he ordered coffee and hashbrowns.

"Skipped breakfast," the young man explained to his father after the waitress left.

"Right," Steve said, clearly not believing Tripp even though it was the truth. "Is everything okay?"

Tripp watched the waitress hand off his order before answering. "What makes you think things aren't?"

"Well, you don't have to be a retired spy to realize your mind isn't here, but it sure does help," the man joked.

"Well, there is something. Is it ethical to become involved with someone if you're in love with someone else?"

Steve steepled his finger and looked at his son for a few seconds. "Is this about you and Claire?"

Closing his eyes, Tripp nodded. He heard his father say Claire's name, but he saw Paul's face. Memories of their bodies entangled danced behind his eyelids, interspersed with how perfect the world felt with Claire in his arms. "Yeah, in a way."

"She's still with Theo, Son. She's not available. I am proud that you've been a real man, a gentleman, and that you've respected their relationship, but you need to move on. Do it for your own sake."

"That's the problem," Tripp confessed with a sigh. He began absentmindedly playing with a sugar packet, but opened his eyes in an attempt to banish his thoughts of Paul. "I'm trying to move on. I think. There's a possibility of someone else, anyway."

"Then what's the problem? Explain it to me."

The sensation of skin on skin overtook Tripp's senses. His vision clouded over with a dark heat. He could smell the sweat, taste the cotton of the pillow, and hear the grunting as if it were still happening. The sugar packet in his hands tore open and spilled all over the table, but he had no idea. Tripp was lost in a memory.

"Earth to Tripp. Hello?" Steve waved a hand in his son's face, pulling him out of the past and into the present. "This other girl must really be in your head something fierce."

"That's one way to put it." Tripp smiled. He noticed the sugar scattered across the table, then he noticed the torn packet still in his hands. Embarrassed, he began sweeping the sugar into a small pile. "But I don't know if anything serious will ever come of it. I don't even know if I want anything to come of it."

"Do I know her?" Steve asked with a grin. "Is she cute?"

"Yeah. You do." Suddenly, Tripp became very aware of his words and meticulously picked each one. "But I can't tell you who it is. Not yet. Things are still too... I don't want to rush anything. Especially when I don't know where things stand with Claire."

"You really shouldn't count on anything with Claire," Steve warned. "Theo isn't going to be at that clinic in South Africa for-"

"I know," Tripp interrupted. "She's with Theo. I just don't know that it's okay for me to pursue something with someone else when I still have feelings for her."

"It's not fair to anyone for you to deprive yourself of a chance at happiness, especially for someone who has made it clear she either can't or won't be with you. Besides, this new girl? She could be the one. She could make you forget all about Claire. This girl could wind up bringing nothing but good to your life."

Tripp felt himself smiling, even though mentally it was the last thing he wanted to do. "That would be nice."

He knew better.


	3. Chapter 3

"I know all we did was sleep together. And the whole thing with our dads working together and your friend Will hating me might make it awkward... Well, it's all awkward anyway because I've never gone on a date with a guy before. But let's forget that.

"Ever since that night, you've been in my head. I don't mean this in some sort of stalker-y way, but I can't stop thinking about you. Something about me changed that night. Don't ask if you were the cause or the catalyst, because I don't know. What I do know is that I want to explore that change. So, Paul, are you open to a date sometime? A legitimate one, where we eat food in a public place where people can see us."

The mirror gave no reply. After rolling his eyes, Tripp sat on his bed and put his head between his knees. It should not be a big deal for him to just ask a guy out. He wasn't in high school anymore. The man could vote and buy cigarettes, but he couldn't have a coherent thought when it came to trying to figure out how to ask out a man with whom he had already had sex.

It also didn't help that a not insignificant part of his brain kept warning him away from thoughts of Paul Narita. There wasn't apprehension about Paul being a man. Half of Salem already hated Tripp because of his maternity, so homophobia wasn't a big concern. There was literally no reason for him to be afraid of Paul, but in a way he still did. It was almost like instinct: like a reptilian holdover that triggered his sense of self-preservation. But as much as that part of Tripp's brain feared Paul, he still longed for him. His heart ached and it made no sense. All they had done was have sex. The whole thing left Tripp feeling confused and torn.

"Knock knock!" Claire called before letting herself into Tripp's bedroom. He looked up and all the confusion melted away.

She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her features were light and slender, like those of a wood nymph. And her voice was as angelic as her kind-hearted personality.

"You okay?" She sat next to Tripp, a friendly smile on her face. "I heard you talking to someone, but I didn't really listen. I'm not a big fan of eavesdropping."

Tripp had to look away. He couldn't breathe and look at her simultaneously. It didn't make sense that she could still have such a strong effect on him when his thought were consumed by Paul. It wasn't fair.

"Just practising something," he explained, eyes still averted. It was no longer a case of not being able to look at her. He didn't deserve to look at her. Claire was too good a person for someone as awful as he. She was pure and he was dirt-ridden garbage. All he would do was taint her. His love for her was an unclean thing.

"Ooh. What is it? A poem or something? Lemme listen. I have an ear for this stuff, being a musician, so I can help you out." In a fit of excitement, Claire bounced on the bed and bumped into Tripp. As if burnt, he jumped to his feet. It was still impossible to look at Claire, so instead he focused on his hands.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Tripp tried not to picture the absolute pain that would inevitably mar Claire's face. "I don't know how to tell you this. When I didn't come home the other night? Well, Ciara was kinda right. I've met someone."

Tripp paused and held his breath. There was no response from Claire, so he exhaled and continued. His father's advice rang in his ears.

"It's not serious. Not yet. But it could be. You're the first to know. Well, next to my dad, but I didn't tell him so much as he figured it out. But you... You deserve to know."

Letting her go hurt. All Tripp wanted to do was drop to his knees, grab her hands, and tell it was a joke. He wanted to beg her to leave Theo and be with him. He wanted Claire to be his wife and they could raise their 2.5 kids in a house with a yard that has a white picket fence. He wanted everything he knew he could never have.

Still, Claire said nothing.

He looked up to her and she turned her face. The woman he loved couldn't even bear to look at him. Tripp's already laboured breathing stopped and a frightening silence settled over the room. All Tripp could hear was the rapid beating of his heart.

"I'm happy for you," Claire finally lied, breaking the tension. She still wasn't looking at him, and her voice was shaking. "You deserve to be happy. I hope she's everything you need and want."

Again, Tripp thought of Paul. He thought of the man who had lit a fire in him, of how he tasted when they kissed, and he wondered if he could ever feel for Paul what he felt for Claire. Not because he was a man, or because there was nothing there. Tripp didn't have words for what he felt for Paul. But he loved Claire. She was everything he wanted and needed, but he was hurting her and he hated himself for it.

Days

When Paul Narita walked into the Brady Pub, Ciara was sitting alone in a booth. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have cared. In fact, she wouldn't have even pretended to care if she had been offered money. The man was absolutely nothing to her. As far as Ciara was concerned, he was nothing at all.

What caught Ciara's attention was that Paul wasn't alone. She knew that they probably knew each other, that their dads worked together, but Ciara couldn't understand why Paul would be with her idiotic mannequin of a roommate Tripp.

"Gotta say, I was a little shocked to get your message. I didn't even know we were friends on Facebook," Paul said as he sat down. Tripp hesitated before joining him, and Ciara wondered why. "You said you wanted to talk about the other night, and..."

"Can I get you anything else?" One of the waitresses stood in front of Ciara, blocking her from being able to see or hear what was going down.

"You can go the fuck away," Ciara ordered. She silently dared the little bitch to retaliate or complain. After all, it was Ciara's family who owned and operated the joint. "I'm in the middle of something and you $3.50 an hour ass is interrupting me. Now leave."

The waitress let out a gasp of shock and offence, Not caring, Ciara did her best to try to inconspicuously look around the bitch until she gave in and moved.

"...have a sweet tea," Tripp told another waitress with a light laugh. The sound of him flirting made Ciara want to vomit. At least all her dumb cunt waitress had interrupted was the taking of orders. It was pure luck that nothing important had been missed.

"So, you have questions about the other night?" Paul asked. The same instinct that told Ciara to listen to the two idiots also told her that this conversation was incredibly important: it just might alter the course of everything she had planned. "I mean, it's a fairly common reaction to have."

"Not questions. Just one. I just need to know one thing," Tripp clarified. All Ciara could see was the back of his big stupid head. The urge to throw a fork at it was incredibly strong, but she fought it down. She didn't want the two dumbasses to know she was listening to them. They might become guarded and she would lose potentially valuable information.

"Whatever I can do to help," Paul offered with a smile. He was starting to slip off of Ciara's indifferent list and onto her hate list. Who the fuck told him he was allowed to be so cheerful and happy?

Tripped chuckled, and Ciara could tell that he was nervous. "Well, I was wondering if you wanted to do it again. Well, not that, exactly. At least, not right away. But maybe we could do the stuff that people usually do before jumping right into bed."

It was killing Ciara that she couldn't see Tripp's face, but Paul's was one of complete surprise. She imagined she had one, too, because she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Tell me exactly what you're saying here. Because it sounded like you were talking around what you actually want to say."

"Paul, do you want to get dinner sometime? In, like, a date kinda way?"

After realizing that his mouth had dropped open, Paul slowly shifted into a smile and nodded. "You know what? Yeah. That would be nice. I haven't been on a proper date in months."

In that moment, Ciara realized that her plot to destroy Tripp and Claire was in tatters. As she continued to watch Paul and Tripp be happy and plan what they were going to do, she grew more and more angry. Claire wasn't going to get away with stealing Theo, her time would come, but first Ciara had to deal with the Tripp situation. And she knew just what to do, but before she could any of that she had to call Sonny.

Days

When he walked into the offices of Black Patch: Private Investigators, Paul was grinning from ear to ear and had a bounce in his step. His father, John Black, noticed it immediately.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" John asked his son.

Paul flashed back to his conversation with Tripp in the Brady Pub earlier that morning. It had been equal parts unexpected and pleasant. "Nothing much. I just have a date tonight."

"Oh really?" John raised an eyebrow and offered a coy smile. "Is it with William? Or someone new?"

"You should know him," Paul teased. Tripp has made a big deal about it being out in the open, about not hiding the fact that it was a date, that Paul didn't even think twice about naming him. It wasn't like he was outing the guy. "Tripp Dalton."

"Patch's kid?" The smile on John's face was quickly replaced by a look of confusion. "Isn't he kinda young? And straight?"

Shaking his head, Paul kept grinning. "He's legal. And bi, I think. Probably. But can we keep this between us? Steve should hear about this from his son, not a co-worker."

"Will do," John agreed. "So, Son, how did you score a date with my best friend's kid? And how does this effect things between you and Sonny?"

"There's nothing between me and Sonny. Not anymore. Not for awhile," Paul answered with a heavy sigh. "He's made it clear that he wants nothing to do with me and that I'm no longer a part of his life. This is me accepting that.

"As for Tripp... He's the one who came to me. And, honestly, I'm glad he did. He seems like a decent guy. And uncomplicated. Those are kind of rare in Salem."

"Honestly, I wouldn't know," John joked.

Noticing a file on his dad's desk, Paul pointed at it and cut the conversation about Tripp short. "We have a new case?"

John nodded seriously. "Yeah. A missing persons case."

"Isn't that usually the territory of the police?"

"Normally, but this is a special case. It's gonna require me having to leave town for a little while. It's about as far from the average kidnapping or runaway as you can get." John picked the file up and handed it to Paul. "This one is incredibly dangerous. Our client, I don't think she understood what she was asking of me. And I cannot stress this enough, but we can't talk about it outside of these walls."

Paul thumbed through the file, and the bits and pieces he saw were disturbing. "Dad, are you sure you should've taken this case? I recognize some of these names. We're talking about a terrorist with mafia connections. This is a job for the ISA or the FBI, not a private investigator."

"That's the thing, Son. If I find her, she may have the information the ISA need to shut those people down. As it stands, if she's alive, then our whole family is at risk to these people. She spent enough time in those circles a few years back. She must know something that can help the better angels. She wouldn't have vanished off the face of the planet if she weren't considered a threat."

"And it was her sister who hired us," Paul noted as he read the signature on the contract. "Dad, is she the one who gave you this information? The sister, I mean. Because I've been told that she can't be trusted."

With a nonchalant laugh, John waved off his son's concern. "No, she didn't. She just gave me an unlimited expense account. The perks of marrying into money, I guess. No, that dossier you're holding came from a few favours being called in. The ISA isn't the only agency in the spy game. There's a woman I worked with a few times back in the day, she's based out of some town in New York now. She sent what she was legally allowed to. Quite a bit of her free time has been spent building a case against our woman's old boss."

There was no need for John to give all the details. Paul knew enough of them from news reports over the years. After all, it had been a huge case back in the day. And what he knew was enough to leave him terrified, even if his father wasn't. What Paul didn't know was just how or why Theresa Donovan was mixed up with terrorists.

Days

"Am I supposed to know what a Tripp Dalton is? Or care?" Sonny did not have time to listen to Ciara bitch about her childish melodramas. He needed to stay focused on saving his marriage. "As far as I'm concerned, Paul hooking up with someone new just removes one more obstacle separating me from Will."

Ciara sighed and began to speak slowly, as if Sonny were an unusually stupid child. He found it annoying and a little bit insulting. "Your thinking is too binary. All you care about is the short term. Me? I try to look at the big picture. Paul and Tripp together will not be good for you."

"Explain to me just how my ex and his new whore are bad for my marriage. Please." Sonny really didn't care about her reasoning. All he wanted was to placate her so that she would do her job.

"The first and most important thing is that it makes me unhappy. Tripp is the one man in this universe who deserves to be miserable and alone for all of his existence. He has to be completely and utterly devastated and it has to be by my hand." Ciara raised a clenched fist into the air as she ranted. "Besides, all their union will do is make Will pursue Paul all that much harder. He'll try to win him away from Tripp. Amnesia or not, Will Horton is a slut just like his mother. They have the same tactics. He won't respect any relationship that Paul is in."

"What the hell are you rambling on about?" Sonny really did not understand what Ciara's crazy bitch ass was spouting. "Make sense."

"Will. Worships. Paul." Again, Ciara was speaking slowly, like Sonny was a Jonas or something. He wanted to slap her, but tamped down the impulse. "If you want Will and Paul to be done for good, you have to destroy the myth that Will has built up in his head. Blow up the pedestal. Don't just make any association with Paul toxic, make it fucking radioactive."

Sonny rolled it eyes. "This all sounds so unnecessary. Paul knows to stay away from Will unless he wants me to end him. After all..."

The sound of his ringing phone cut Sonny off mid-thought. Grateful for the distraction from his psychotic cousin, Sonny saw that it was his operative calling. She wouldn't be doing so unless it was important.

"What is it?" he barked into his phone, ignoring Ciara's petulant offence.

"I found out why your boy got so spooked at your ex's place. Paul wasn't alone when Will showed up, you see. Will walked in on sexy times or something. I guess he got mad it wasn't his ass that Paul was pounding into oblivion."

"That falls in line with what else I've been told," Sonny said, watching Ciara out of the corner of his eye. She looked royally pissed and it made him crack a smile. "What is the name?"

"Of the other guy? Tripp something or other. I already sent you his photo, but you didn't answer my text so I called."

"Good work," Sonny told her before hanging up. She didn't need further instruction: the woman may have been annoying, but she wasn't an idiot.

He continued to ignore Ciara and scrolled through his text messages until he found the one he was looking for. When he opened it, his amusement as Ciara's indignation gave way to a boiling anger. He slammed a fist onto a nearby table, which shook so hard a lamp fell off and smashed into pieces when it hit the floor.

The picture was of someone Sonny recognized. It was him. The man from Unicorn Highway, the savage who assaulted Will. The photo was of him and Paul at the Brady Pub, time-stamped for just that morning. Sonny turned his phone around so that Ciara could see the screen.

"Is that man Tripp Dalton?"

Ciara must have sensed the hate wafting off of Sonny, because she smirked. It was so evil, so devilish that for a moment it cut through Sonny's anger and caused him to shiver. "That's Tripp alright. I'd recognize that empty-headed Aryan nation wet dream anywhere. Yeah, that's him with Paul this morning, just like I told you. Why the sudden change of heart? I thought you didn't care."

It struck Sonny as odd that Ciara didn't seem to care that he had a photo of Tripp on his phone. She couldn't have known who his operative was. He had been very careful about making sure nobody would know she was in Salem again.

"A man can't have a change of heart?" Sonny replied, answering Ciara's question with one of his own. You were right. I have to obliterate Paul. But not just Paul. This Tripp character, too. They need to understand the consequences of crossing a Kiriakis."

"I'm glad you feel that way." Ciara began running her fingers through her hair, her life-draining smirk still plastered on her face. "See, I never told you why I needed your help. I still won't. That's my business and mine alone. But I will tell you that my plans have changed somewhat. When it comes to Tripp Dalton and Paul Narita, though? Our plans seem to have aligned perfectly. Trust me. When I want to ruin someone, there won't be enough of them left to fill an ashtray."


	4. Chapter 4

Sonny handed the vial to Ciara with a warning. "You do realize that if you get caught, you're on your own? This is your plan. All of the risk is yours."

For years, Sonny had second-guessed himself. His entire first run with Paul had basically forced him back into the closet, Will ran hot and cold long before he died and came back with amnesia, and Club TBD had always struggled because he let Chad take the reins early on and as a result it never found a direction.

That era was done. Now Sonny was taking control of his life. Ciara may have believed that she was the one running everything, that it was all her plan, but she was young and inexperienced. She would be the perfect fall girl if it came to that. After all, he had already lived through enough adversity to know how things always ended. He knew that Ciara would prove to be just another loose end that he would have to wrap up.

"If you did your part, that won't be a possibility," she assured him. She carefully slid the vial into an inner pocket of her jacket. "What about the drug?"

"That was much easier to procure. You're lucky, you know that?" Sonny commented as he handed his cousin a second vial. "The drug had a decent shelf life, but if you're doing this it has to be tonight. You won't get a second chance at a frame job this perfect."

"Listen here, Jackson," Ciara drew out his full name much to Sonny's annoyance, "I know what I'm doing. I grew up surrounded by cops and super spies. I know the ins and outs of the system, and I know how to manipulate them.

"You just worry about what you have to do, and leave me to me. This is going to go down exactly as I want. Every contingency has been planned for."

The doorbell rang. Ciara looked in the direction of the front door, then back to Sonny. There was a smug, self-assured look on her face that told him she knew exactly who his guest was. She was already making moves without consulting him and it just reinforced his belief that she was going to be an inevitable liability.

"And there is the would-be wild card now. Do take care of him, Jackson. It just wouldn't do for him to be out there in the wild, where he could potentially get in my way and ruin everything we've worked for."

Ciara pushed Sonny in the direction of the door before excusing herself to leave through another exit. He counted to ten as he walked to the door in an attempt to calm down. After opening the door, he was glad he had because Will was standing on his doorstep.

"Hi," Sonny said to his husband, trying not to let his surprise show. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Water is fine," Will answered nervously. He hesitated a few seconds before stepping into the mansion. Sonny silently walked him to the study, then left to fetch a bottle of water. He debated internally as to what he should do. Somehow, Ciara had arranged it so that Will would come to his house. It was a feat that Sonny himself had struggled with ever since Will returned to Salem.

But what had Ciara done? That was what had him scared. He was fine with her plot to take out Paul and Tripp: they had coming whatever it was she was dishing out. Sonny's concern was with what came after. If he couldn't control Ciara, and the current stunt with Will made it pretty damn clear that was the case, then he would likely have to neutralize her.

"Thanks." Will took the water and Sonny was pulled back into the present. Why was he wasting time worrying about some idiotic little girl when the love of his life was standing right in front of him?

"Any time." Sonny smiled and waited for some sort of context clue that would explain Will's visit. "Can I get you anything else? Anything at all?"

"No. I think we should just jump right into it." Will sighed and cracked open his water. "Though, I do have to say, your text was a bit of a surprise."

Sonny felt his pocket and realized his phone was gone. He scanned the room and saw it sitting on a table near where Ciara had been standing. How had she guessed his password? What did she say to Will to get him to come over?

"So, what exactly brought about the change?" Will took a drink of water, his eyes locked on Sonny.

"I'm sorry?"

Sighing again, Will sat down and looked up at the still standing Sonny. "Just the other night, you were still practically stalking me. Then tonight you message me saying that you want to discuss a divorce? How did you get from point A to point B?"

And in that moment, Sonny snapped. As soon as her usefulness was up, as soon as she no longer had a part to play in Sonny's reunion with Will, he was going to see to it that Ciara Brady was dead.

Days

Even though he knew he had plenty of time, Paul kept glancing at the clock on his dashboard. He had just dropped his father off at the airport and was racing home as fast as the law would allow. All Paul wanted was to get a shower and a change of clothes before his date. It was more than excitement: it was elation.

Paul was more flattered by the attention than he would ever admit. He was the one approached by Tripp, after all. The previously-believed-to-be-straight man was the one who came onto him at the bar, and that same man was who said he wanted to pursue something more serious. This wasn't a situation where Paul was trying to replace Sonny. It was just a matter of mutual attraction and interest.

It was nice.

By the time he arrived home to his apartment complex, Paul had already settled on and changed his mind three times about the outfit he was going to wear. He was so far into negotiating a fourth option in his head that he didn't even notice his hallway wasn't empty.

However, as soon as he had opened the door to his apartment, Paul felt a hand on his shoulder. Before he could react, a second hand held a wet cloth over his nose and mouth. There was barely enough time to register a chemical smell before blackness overtook him.

Days

Claire Brady felt guilty. She sat on the sofa in the living room of her loft, half-heartedly texting her boyfriend who was an ocean away recovering from a gunshot wound. But her attention was decidedly not on him.

Instead of focusing on the man she loved, Claire watched her friend and roommate Tripp as he ran back and forth from the bathroom to bedroom and back again. He was preparing for his date with the mystery woman and Claire hated it.

She knew she was being a hypocrite for not wanting Tripp to be happy while she had someone herself, but she couldn't control how she felt. She had grown accustomed to Tripp being in love with her. Part of her enjoyed the longing looks he would cast her way when he thought she wasn't paying attention. It was nice having someone be in love with her who wouldn't cross the line from friend to interloper. She had a very nice Tripp-shaped cake, but got to eat a Theo-shaped one, too. Plus, Tripp respected that Claire wouldn't give him what he wanted.

But she couldn't bring herself to be happy for him. It wasn't jealousy. She didn't envy whoever the woman was that caught his eye. It was just a general sadness. Claire what mourning was never was and now likely never would be.

"Does this look okay?" The excitement Tripp had been exhibiting ever since his return from his breakfast date was suddenly not present in his voice. Claire looked up at him and he seemed so small, almost as if he were trying to hide from her. It hurt.

"You look great." Claire paid no attention to what he was wearing. The pain she felt when looking at him grew unbearable, so she forced a smile onto her face and picked a spot on the wall just behind him on which to focus her attention. "She's really lucky. I hope you know that."

"Thank." Tripp offered a small smile that made Claire's own falter. He noticed and immediately looked to the floor. She kept looking past him.

"I hope I get to meet her soon. Make sure she's good enough for you," Claire joked, except it wasn't a joke. "Is she picking you up?"

Tripp looked back up at Claire, just for a second. "He had to run his dad to the airport. I'M taking a cab to his place, then he's driving us from there."

He? Claire's eyes snapped away from the wall and to Tripp's face. It held no fear, there was no need for it, but it was evident that he was nervous. That was understandable.

"Okay. Well, then I want to meet him."

It wasn't clear if Tripp was looking for reassurance or just someone to possibly hash things out with. However, to Claire, it was obvious that couldn't do either for him.

Days

The worst part was the wait. Paul was going to be out for awhile, so Ciara wasn't worried about him in the slightest. It was just a matter of when Tripp would arrive. The text she'd sent him from Paul's phone, he still used the same password Sonny remembered, it said that the door was unlocked and to just come right on in.

So far, everything had worked. If Sonny did his job like he was supposed to, cameras wouldn't be an issue. Even so, Ciara wasn't stupid. Her hair was braided and tucked into her shirt and a ski mask covered her face. She may have worked with Sonny, but that didn't mean she trusted him.

But he had proved useful. Hell, he even added an element to Ciara's plan that would've been impossible without him. He must have hated Paul more than she hated Tripp, because he went above and beyond in his effort to secure his ex's downfall.

Ciara used a gloved hand to cradle the vial in her interior pocket. There would only be one chance to use it. Sonny had told her what it was, but not how he had acquired it. That scared her a little. Even though Paul and Sonny were exes, and they all lived in Salem, she had never heard of anybody keeping what Sonny had given her. She wondered just what he did to get it.

She really needed for Tripp to hurry up and arrive. Ciara had to pee, and the sound of the running shower only made it worse. Good thing it wasn't her water bill. But it sucked because she was smart enough to know not to use the toilet in Paul's apartment. She really, really had to go.

Just when Ciara's bladder felt like it was going to burst, Paul's door opened. Ciara held her breath and pressed against against the wall so that she wouldn't be seen.

"Paul?" It was Tripp's voice. Ciara almost breathed a sigh of relief, but held it in so that he wouldn't know anyone else was there. "Sounds like he's in the shower."

The fact that Tripp was the kind of guy who talked to himself just made it more necessary that Ciara bring him down. It was one of her pet peeves: for her entire childhood, she had observed the other citizens of Salem destroy their own schemes by talking to themselves and being overheard. It almost always led to either blackmail or being outed. That was never going to be Ciara's downfall.

Tripp closed the door and Ciara attacked. Much like she'd done with Paul, Ciara used chloroform to knock Tripp out. It was amusing to her how she didn't need Sonny to get it: it was ridiculously easy to come across. As soon as he was out, she let him fall to the floor. She'd caught Paul before he could, but Ciara wanted the neighbours to hear Tripp's loud thud.

She locked the door, then dragged Tripp over to Paul's bed. It was an annoying inconvenience because Tripp was as heavy as he was stupid. She managed to flop his upper half onto the edge of the bed, then grabbed him by the belt and pulled him up the rest of the way.

The man was peacefully unconscious, chest rising and falling like he was in a sound sleep. Ciara hatefully growled at him. She reached into a pocket and produced one of the vials Sonny had given her. Ciara forced Tripp's mouth open, then poured most of the liquid into it. There was just enough left to add to a bottle of beer sitting on the night stand. After doing so, Ciara held the bottle to Tripp's lips, then put it in his hand and watched as it fell over and began spilling on the bed.

Every detail had to be perfect. Paul was already naked, lying on the bathroom floor. Later, Ciara would drag him into the room and put him next to the bed, but Tripp still required the bulk of her focus.

Piece by piece, she peeled off Tripp's clothing until he was down to his boxer-briefs. Her gloves made it difficult, but rather than pull them off she ripped his underwear to shreds and threw the tattered remains to the floor. Paul's fingerprints would be on them soon enough.

What came next would be the hardest thing for Ciara to do. She had lucked out that Paul kept sex toys in his nightstand, and she made use of them. It was essential that Tripp's body have the trauma. And she made sure not to lube him up and not to stop until he started bleeding. The action made her sick, but she was too far into everything to stop. Besides, the blood was going to end up on Paul's dick, not her hands.

After she was done, Ciara spent a few moments just breathing and watching Tripp do the same. It was almost as though he were a real person. She shook her head and shook out the thoughts of guilt creeping into her brain. There was neither time nor a need for self-reflection. What was done could not be undone.

The only thing Ciara could do was finish the job. Tripp lay before her: bruised, bloodied, and blissfully drugged. She pulled out the other vial Sonny had given her. It was going to seal the deal. It was the one thing that would erase any chance Paul had of being found innocent of the crimes Ciara had committed.

Days

Two dark-haired women met in an empty warehouse. One hand a flash-drive to her compatriot and received a small stack of bills in return.

"So, he still thinks you work for him?" The woman who now held the flash-drive had a very noticeable accent. "He must, considering he gave you access to the Titan Industry servers. And now I have everything that they have."

"He's so worried about his exes that he never bothers to actually work," the second woman said, an equally noticeable lack of an accent to her voice. "As long as I stalk his husband, he doesn't care what I do with my time."

"Soon enough, he'll know. Silly faggot. They're all the same. As long as you can distract them with a penis, a homosexual will always leave his business unguarded." The accented woman smiled. "My last excursion to the East Coast may not have gone according to plan, but this time I know what I'm doing. This time, the bombs dropped are going to be metaphorical."

Days

When Tripp woke up, the first thing he noticed was that Paul's face was close to his and it was wracked with fear. Then he noticed the pain. A large wave of nausea rolled over him, and Tripp proceeded to roll onto this side and vomit.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" Paul's voice was in Tripp's ear, but he kept vomiting until there was nothing left in his stomach. He continued to dry heave for a few moments more.

After his body began to calm down, Tripp surveyed where he was. It was Paul's apartment. He remembered from when they had slept together. But he didn't remember being there. Pulling at his brain, the closest Tripp could get was climbing into the taxi for the ride over.

"What time is it?" he asked, rolling over and immediately regretting it. He was sore. Tripp reached behind himself and came back with a hand spattered with blood. His eyes got big and he looked at Paul. "What the fuck happened?"

"I don't know," Paul confessed. He reached out to touch Tripp, but Tripp pulled away despite the pain. "I don't remember you getting here. All I know is that I woke up and you were..."

Paul didn't finish his sentence. It was weird and terrifying. Tripp was in the bed of a man he barely knew with no idea how he had gotten there, his ass was bleeding, and he felt sick as a dog. And Paul's own terrified behaviour was not helping matters.

"You did..." Tripp didn't want to finish the thought. He looked over Paul's naked body and saw the dried brown stain on his penis. He began dry heaving again, this time out of nerves rather than nausea.

All Paul did was watch him. He wasn't offering to take Tripp to the ER, or get him into the shower, or anything else. It was like he was scared of Tripp when it was clearly supposed to be the other way around.

"What happened to me?" Tripp asked weakly when he could. He was so sore and so tired. Paul still wasn't speaking, just staring at Tripp in disbelief. "What the fuck did you do to me?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Tripp didn't come home again." Claire was whining and Ciara wanted to bury an ice pick between her eyebrows.

"You said he was on a date. Dude probably got laid. You should try it." Ciara was trying not to think about Tripp and what she had done to him. It was one thing to dream and fantasize about ruining a person, but actually doing it had changed her. And it bothered her that she wasn't sure what it exactly it was that was different.

Claire gasped, then began screeching at a glass-rattling pitch. "Ciara! Theo's all the way in South Africa! You know I can't do that without him!"

The though of Claire made Ciara shudder. She instantly regretted bringing up the subject.

"I hope you're right, though," Claire continued in a more calm tone. Nursing a hot cup of tea, she sat next to Ciara on the sofa. "I hope he did have a great time with the guy and that nothing bad happened."

"Guy?" Ciara didn't have to play at being shocked. She had no idea that Tripp was capable of telling Claire that he was going out to see Paul. For whatever reason, she had expected Claire to find out when everyone else did.

Claire nodded, her eyes wide. "Yeah. He didn't tell me who it was. I don't know if he... We didn't talk much about it, but he never said it was a secret or anything. I'm still worried about him, though. As much change as there has been in the world, Salem still isn't that progressive a place."

"I'm sure he's fine," Ciara lied. Memories of the night before began to flash through her mind, but she banished them as quickly as they surfaced. "Tripp is a pretty tough guy. He can take care of himself."

"I hope you're right."

Before the unsettling conversation could continue, Ciara's phone rang. Not even bothering to excuse herself, she stood and walked away from Claire and the sofa. She also didn't feel bad about it.

"Hi, Aunt Kayla." It was rare for Ciara to hear from her aunt. While the Brady family had a tendency to come together in times of crisis, Ciara had never really been a part of that. It was less like she was the daughter of Bo Brady, and more like everyone just saw her as the daughter of Hope Williams.

"Ciara, honey, are you free today? I need a favour." There was hesitance in Kayla's voice. It didn't surprise Ciara that her aunt needed something from her: nobody ever wanted her around just to have her be around. "I'll understand if you say no."

"Why the hell not? It's not like I have anything better to do." Ciara shot a dirty look at Claire, whose mouth dropped open in shock and confusion. "Whatcha need?"

"It's illegal for me to tell you who, but a young man was admitted to the ER early this morning. He was raped, Ciara. I think he needs someone to talk to, someone who has been through it, and I... I can't be that person. Will you do this for me? I know it's asking a lot."

All Ciara wanted to do was refuse: Kayla was talking about Tripp. She had to be. And while it was hard for Ciara to talk about Chase and what he had done to her, the other option was to stay home and spend time with Claire.

"Yeah. I can do that. I'll be there as soon as I can," Ciara told her aunt. She wondered how she was going to pull it off: how was she going to counsel a man about his rape when she was the one who raped him?

Everything had been perfect in theory. But just like communism, Ciara was afraid her plan wouldn't work in execution. All she could do was hope that the very sight of Tripp would piss her off so much that her guilt evaporated. She needed it.

"What's going on?" Claire asked from behind her tea. Ciara wanted to pour said tea over her niece's head.

"It's none of your fucking business, you ostrich-built bitch."

Claire began yakking how Ciara was mean and nasty for no reason, and Ciara absorbed the vitriol as she prepared to leave. The hate and anger thrown at her fueled her own, and she was going to need it if she was going to get through the visit with Tripp at the hospital.

When Ciara's phone rang a second time, she used it as an opportunity to momentarily ignore Claire's bleating. This time, it was Sonny calling. Either he was trying to ask her about Paul and Tripp, or he already knew and wanted her to proceed with Will. Either way, she wasn't in the mood to deal with him and sent him to voicemail.

Days

The pain and nausea were gone. Or, at the very least, they were so dulled with drugs that Tripp was completely unaware of them. He wished he could drug away the embarrassment and confusion just as easily.

When the squad had picked Tripp up, Paul hadn't said anything. He just sat in silence, not reacting to anything. It seemed like shock. In fact, Paul hadn't even been the one to call for the squad: that had been Tripp himself. And even as he was admitted, Tripp had hoped he was wrong and that what he thought happened actually hadn't.

Then the results of his drug screening came in: he tested positive for GHB. It was the most common date rape drug on the street. And with that revelation came the painful acceptance. Tripp had been raped. Paul had raped him and he couldn't understand why.

"You're gonna be okay, Son. He won't get away with it." Steve had been promising retribution in one way or another since his arrival at the hospital, but all Tripp wanted from his dad was reassurance. And he barely received any. It didn't help that Steve had glossed completely over the fact that the rape had happened during a date with Paul.

He didn't know what to make of that. Tripp didn't know what to make of a lot of things. His brain was stuck on the impossible to discern why of it all. Was it about sex? Because they'd already done that. All Paul had to do was ask if he wanted to do it again. Was it something else? Why was it so hard to understand?

"Everything will be okay," Tripp assured his dad. He didn't believe that it would. His brain, his most basic survival instinct, had warned him that Paul Narita was going to bring nothing but trouble to Tripp's life. But he had ignored that. He had assumed that his heart knew better. And his ignorance had been rewarded with rape. He had only himself to blame.

"Tripp, you don't have to worry about me." Steve held his son's hand. "I'm the parent. My job is to take care of you. All you do is focus on getting better, on not letting this ruin or define you. You have a rough road ahead and you'll need all of your strength."

There was a knock on the door and Kayla Johnson came in. She was Steve's wife and Tripp's stepmother. She was also the chief of staff for the hospital, and she wasn't alone.

"Ciara?"

"Tripp." His roommate tried to look shocked to see him, but part of her just couldn't pull off the deception. "So, it's you."

"I don't think I could be anyone else." Nobody laughed at his unfunny joke.

"Steve," Kayla looked to her husband with an unreadable face. "We need to leave these two alone for a bit. There's something you need to see, anyway."

Kayla's shaken tone went unnoticed by nobody, but it did go without being addressed.

After giving his son's hand one final squeeze, Steve told his son that he loved him. He quietly left the room with his wife and Ciara closed the door behind them.

"Why are you here?" Tripp asked Ciara. He couldn't comprehend why Kayla would have called his gruff and downright mean roommate to be at his side after what he'd already been through. The last thing he needed or wanted was a vicious mocking.

"The hospital has trained rape counsellors on staff," Ciara informed Tripp, almost as if she would rather one of them were with him. "I get it if you'd rather have one of them here, but Aunt Kayla... She thought you would benefit from talking to someone you know, someone who has been where you are."

"You, too?" Tripp couldn't bring himself to use the word.

"Me, too," she answered. She sat in the chair that Steve had vacated but, unlike Tripp's father, she didn't try to hold his hand. "Mine was my stepbrother Chase. He did a number on me, but what he did wasn't my fault. And what happened to you was not yours."

Ciara was decidedly not looking at Tripp. He wasn't sure if it was a result of her own memories or something else. He hoped it was the former.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ciara asked, not really giving Tripp the time needed to process what she had already told him. "Do you know the guy who did it?"

That caught his attention. "How did you know it was a guy?"

After closing her eyes, Ciara took a deep breath. Then she looked directly at Tripp. Her eyes were hard and were tearing into his with such voracity that he had to break the contact to preserve his own sanity.

"Claire mentioned it this morning. It just kind of slipped out. You know the bitch can't keep her big mouth shut." Ciara's explanation was very Ciara so Tripp just nodded. "She said you spent the night with a guy, so I'm assuming he's the one who raped you."

Tripp thought of Paul's odd behaviour. He didn't seem to have been acting like a rapist, but it also occurred to Tripp that he didn't know how a rapist was supposed to act. But evidence didn't lie. He had been drugged and forcefully penetrated, and he had woken up in Paul's bed sick to his stomach.

"I guess so. Someone already came in and took samples, I guess. DNA testing I think. And I'm waiting on an STD test or something, too. I don't know. Part of me doesn't want to know." Tripp's voice cracked and Ciara reacted as if it were gunfire. He felt horrible because it was clear he was causing her to relive her own nightmare. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." Ciara's voice had grown as hard as her eyes. "Tripp, you have no reason to be sorry. The one in the wrong here is the guy who raped you. And he won't get away with it."

They sat in silence after that. Everyone was angrier about what happened to Tripp than he was. Even Ciara, who openly hated him, was there at his side being what passed for supportive in her world.

The silence was only interrupted when someone else entered the room.

"Mom?" Ciara sounded confused when she addressed the newcomer.

"Hey, Ciara, can you wait outside while I talk to your friend?" The woman seemed taken aback by her daughter's presence, but Tripp spoke up in favour of his roommate.

"Can she stay? Please?" Tripp hated how soft his voice sounded in that moment, how pleading it came off. His words were those of someone who was weak.

"If that's what you want, I suppose." The woman pulled her eyes off of Ciara and fixed them on him. "Tripp Dalton, yes?"

He nodded, suddenly unable to speak. For a moment, he imagined that he was still holding his father's hand and made to squeeze it. The illusion shattered when he was greeted by empty air.

"My name is Officer Hope Brady. I'm with the Salem Police Department."

That was when Tripp began to cry, because suddenly everything was real.

Days

The offices of Black Patch were dark and empty. It was good because it was what Paul needed. He needed the silence almost as much as he needed to be anywhere that wasn't his apartment.

Nobody had come right out and said it, but Paul knew what Tripp and the EMTs had been thinking. They believed that Paul had raped him. And even though Paul didn't believe it, even though he knew he wasn't capable of raping someone, he still had no idea what actually had happened. He woke up to Tripp naked and unconscious in his bed. He woke up naked and lying on top of Tripp.

The big blank spot was terrifying to Paul. What had he done during that period of time he couldn't recall? What had happened to Tripp? And why couldn't he remember anything?

"There you are."

Somehow, Paul had missed the sound of both a key in the lock and the door opening. But he knew the voice well. Looking up from his reverie, Paul saw Steve Johnson staring at him, his eye overcome with rage.

"Wait. Please," Paul begged, knowing it to be futile. Steve didn't even wait for Paul to stand before attacking.

The chair toppled over and Paul fell backward, slamming his head into a filing cabinet. Steve kicked the chair out of the way and pinned Paul to the floor, delivery fist after fist to his face with no time to recover between blows.

Somehow, Paul kicked Steve off, and he kicked hard. He immediately climbed to his feet and put the desk between himself and the angry father. All he wanted was time, enough time to talk Steve out of trying to kill him.

"Stop! Wait!" Paul yelled, slamming his hands on the desk. "I know what you're thinking, but I didn't do anything."

"Didn't do anything? You raped my son!" Steve bellowed. He made to flip the desk over so that it was out of his way, but it proved too heavy. Paul was grateful that Steve was older, because he doubted that he could have handled the man in his prime.

"No, I didn't!" Paul shouted back. He couldn't remember the events of the night, nothing between coming home from dropping off his dad and waking up with Tripp, but he knew who he was. And he was not a rapist. In that moment, Paul stopped caring about the feelings of his accuser and defended himself. "I'm not a rapist, Steve, but your son may be a liar."

That proved to be the wrong thing to say, because Steve began to climb onto the desk to get to Paul. Thankfully, he was interrupted by a sudden police presence.

"Okay, everybody calm down!" Rafe Hernandez stormed into the office, two other officers following behind him. He looked at Steve and nodded. "I don't know what you two were doing and I don't wanna know, but it's over. Do you hear me?"

Anger still radiated from Steve, but he reluctantly agreed. Paul breathed out of relief.

"Paul Narita." Rafe looked over to Paul, who hung his head in defeat. He knew what was coming. The words didn't seem real, even Rafe seemed like he couldn't believe what he was saying, but he still stung. "You're under arrest for the rape of Tripp Dalton. You have the right to remain silent..."

Days

Sonny chuckled. His police informant had already told him about the arrest, but there was nothing better than seeing the headlines splashed across the TV and social media. It was done: Paul had been arrested for rape and his reputation would never recover. T'was glorious.

Now that Paul was out of the way and the Tripp creature had been properly punished, Sonny could fully devote himself to the one thing that truly mattered: his husband.

But Ciara wasn't answering his summons. That was unacceptable. They had made a deal and he had upheld his end of it. Now Sonny wanted to collect what she owed. And after her stunt with Will, she owed him her life.

He began dialing the now familiar number. There weren't many people Sonny could trust. And while she was definitely not on the list, she was loyal enough to money to do what he ordered. He needed that.

"Yeah, Boss Man?" She sounded amused, when she answered, and he assumed she had also been reading the news.

"You can take a break from trailing Will," he told her. "I need you to bring someone to me. Do whatever you have to to get her here, even if she sees your face."

"Who's the unlucky bitch?" She sounded excited, which it turned made Sonny a bit excited himself to see what she'd do.

Sonny smiled. "Your cousin, Ciara Brady. She and I need to have a talk, and I want you to be there for it."

Theresa Donovan began laughing. Unable to stop himself, Sonny joined her.


	6. Chapter 6

"You can remove the bag now."

There was no attempt to hide the amusement in Sonny's voice. He very much wanted the young woman to know that all she was to him was a joke. As his assistant Theresa lifted the cloth sack from Ciara's head, he squatted down so that he and his cousin were face-to-face.

"This is why you answer my calls," Sonny told Ciara, reaching out to grab her chin. "I don't know what it was that allowed you to think that you could ignore me, but I hope you know better now."

"What do you want?" Ciara growled, though the anger in her voice wasn't enough to mask the fear in her eyes.

Nonetheless, Sonny released her chin, then smacked her face with the back of his hand.

"For starters, I want you to watch you tone," Sonny warned the girl. "Next time, she'll be taking care of you. And she's not as nice as me."

He nodded to Theresa, who grabbed Ciara's hair and jerked her head back so that she could see just who it was holding her captive.

"Hey, Cuz," Theresa said jovially, offering a small wave with her free hand.

"You're back?" Ciara gasped. After Theresa released her, Ciara stared at Sonny and seemed to pick her words much more carefully. "What is happening here?"

Sonny smiled. "You should know. All of this was your idea."

"I don't recall being snatched off the street by this thug," Ciara used her head to gesture to Theresa, "to be a part of anything we discussed."

"I am not a thug!" Theresa protested before punching Ciara in the back of the head. The chair to which Ciara was tied wobbled but did not fall over.

Ignoring the outburst of violence, Sonny stood and looked down at Ciara. He wondered how he had ever considered this pathetic child to be a threat.

"We had a deal, Ciara. You came to me and I did as you asked. Paul has been arrested and that..." Sonny snarled as he thought of Tripp, "that THING is pressing charges against him. Now, I need for you to do your part. After your stunt the other day, I can't even get Will to answer a phone call. He's too angry with me and you need to fix that."

Ciara looked up and her face was set. Defiance danced behind her eyes and Sonny bristled. "No. What I did to Tripp and Paul was wrong. These are real people, Sonny. We need to stop."

He backhanded her again. This time, there was enough force to knock Ciara onto her side. She didn't scream so he kicked her in the stomach. If the bitch wouldn't feel fear, he could at least make her feel pain.

Theresa clapped.

"There is no stopping." Sonny looked away from his cousin and to the nearest reflective surface. He adjusted his tie. Briefly, he wondered why full length mirrors weren't standard in abandoned warehouses. "I want my husband back, Ciara. You promised him to me, and you will deliver him to me. You have no say in the matter. Honestly, you never really did."

Days

"What are you doing here?" Paul fought the urge to hang up and walk away.

Will looked at him from the other side of the glass. If he hadn't been the only person to visit, Paul would have left. But he needed for someone, anyone, to listen to him.

"I know you didn't do it." Paul saw that Will's hand was shaking as he held the receiver to his mouth. "That isn't who you are, Paul. He's framing you."

"You don't know that," Paul told Will sombrely. "You're right, I didn't rape him, but you can't prove that Tripp framed me. Nobody knows what happened: not even me. I have no recollection of that night whatsoever."

Paul didn't know what else to say, and Will wasn't saying anything, so they sat in silence for a few moments. Then Will spoke.

"You didn't do this and I'm gonna prove it. That lying thug isn't getting away with this, Paul. I'm gonna see to it that you get out of here and everyone will know that you're innocent."

"Just wait. Please," Paul begged, remembering Tripp's face as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. "You weren't there, Will. You didn't see him. I don't know what happened, but he's not okay. That's not something you can fake."

"Are you saying that he's telling the truth?" There was anger in Will's eyes, but there was fear in his voice. Was Will... Had he changed his mind? Was he going to abandon Paul just like the rest of Salem?

"I'm saying that I don't know, Will. I didn't do anything to Tripp. I didn't drug him or touch him, but something did happen."

Shaking his head, Will sighed into the receiver. "You're much too good a person, Paul. This guy is just a liar. He's nothing but trouble. He's no victim. But don't worry too much. You aren't gonna be in here too much longer."

"Will, what are you doing?" Paul was starting to panic, but he didn't lose it until Will hung up the receiver. That was when Paul slapped the glass and began to shout. "LEAVE HIM ALONE, WILL. PLEASE! STAY AWAY FROM TRIPP!"

The guard began to roughly pull Paul away, so he gave up. All he could do was hope that nobody got hurt.

Days

"So, this is the famous John Black." The tall man ripped ripped the duct tape from John's mouth. It stung, but John wasn't going to let some thug see him wince. "You aren't that impressive. A super spy? Maybe in the 80s, but now you're just a sad old man trying to relive his glory days."

John paid no attention to his captor's words. Instead, he took in his surroundings. It was a warehouse, which was cliche enough, but he hadn't been tied a a chair which was good. The man had chosen to zip-tie his hands behind his back and didn't even bother to secure John's legs. He felt the cuff of his sleeve until he found the safety pin he had secured into it when he got dressed. Whoever snatched him was clearly an amateur.

"We hear you've been asking about things that really aren't your business: about people who don't want to be found. You need to understand that the boss lady can't have that."

Lady? Was he talking about Theresa or...

The locking mechanism of the zip-tie gave under the pressure of the safety pin. John did his best to remove it with his interrogator noticing.

"Gotta say, I'm shocked you'd even be out here, considering what your son just did."

John groaned audibly. "What did Brady do this time?"

"Who?" John's captor bent down and put his face inches from John's. "I mean your other kid. The faggy chink who played baseball. He raped a kid. Must take after his stepsister."

As much as he wanted to know more about what was happening with Paul, John wasn't gonna waste his opportunity to escape. He swung both fists around and boxed the man's ears. Lifting up his unsecured legs, John kicked the man in the chest and knocked him to the floor.

Standing, John grabbed the chair and threw it through the nearest window. The shattering of the glass triggered an alarm and armed men began pouring into the room. Not wanting to be shot, John dived through the broken window.

Whatever was happening with Theresa needed to wait. John was free and, if Paul was in the sort of trouble the stranger had claimed, then that was where John needed to be.

Days

It felt like everyone was staring at him. The papers and the blogs didn't print his name, not yet, but Tripp certain that it was only a matter of time. Besides, Salem wasn't a huge place and people talked.

"There you are!" A woman cried out, following up with Tripp's name. Claire ran over to him and threw her arms around him. The urge to throw her off shot through his body and it took everything Tripp had to tamp it down. Before, whenever she would hug him, Tripp would melt into Claire's embrace. Now thought of anyone touching him, holding him... He wanted to vomit.

"I'm here," he answered, gently grabbing Claire's wrists and pulling her off. He stepped back and away from her as everyone in the town square glued their eyes onto him. Claire was too oblivious to notice the audience.

"They wouldn't let me see you at the hospital. Something about a closed room."

"Nobody was allowed in. Press were... Someone leaked what was done and they used my name, but your grandma Hope managed to keep it out of the papers." Tripp resumed walking, and Claire fell into lockstep with him. "I'm sorry, can we not talk about it?"

Unfortunately, Tripp wouldn't get his wish. The blond twink from the bar, the one he had punched, planted himself directly in front of Tripp. "Stop lying."

"Excuse me?" Claire stepped between Tripp and the man, putting her finger into his chest. "You need to back off, Will."

Tripp didn't know how Claire knew the man named Will, but Will clearly didn't care about Claire because he pushed her out of the way. She had to grab onto Tripp's arm to keep from falling.

"Hey! Watch it," Tripp ordered the man as he made sure Claire was okay.

Will responded by punching Tripp in the face. "I am NOT going to stand by and let you destroy a good man. You deceitful piece of shit. Take it back."

Touching a hand to his mouth, Tripp winced. He was bleeding. He was was also not in the mood for this particular asshole. "Claire, get away from here. Please."

"Don't do this, Tripp," she pleaded. He looked to her and tried to apologize with his eyes.

For his part, Will tackled Tripp to the ground and began screaming at him, each word punctuating with a blow to the face. "You. Are. Just. A. Fucking. Liar. Take. It. Back."

Claire began to pull at Will, giving Tripp just enough space to raise a leg and kick Will away. Adrenaline flooded through his veins, triggering his fight-or-flight sense and he didn't have it in him to fight. It was clear that Will would be just the beginning of the entire town coming for his head. After all, everyone knew that he was the son of a monster so the apple obviously didn't fall far from the tree.

Tripp spat out a mouthful of blood, but he aimed at the ground instead of Will's face. "I'm done with this."

He climbed to his feet and Claire helped him to steady himself. As he limped away from the still-fuming Will, Tripp wondered to himself if seeking justice was worth it.

Days

Ciara had watched it all go down. Tripp had been attacked and humiliated and that bitch Claire had been his praying mantis-built saviour. She had saved Tripp from their retarded cousin Will while Ciara stood in the background unnoticed.

She couldn't have interfered anyway, not after Sonny and his new best friend Theresa kidnapped and beat her. They had scared Ciara. Hurt her, even. Ciara had been humiliated by a crackhead and a Doctor Eggman cosplayer and it pissed her off.

"What was that about?" Ciara tried not to laugh as Will jumped. He turned around and looked into Ciara's eyes. There was something to him that she tried to avoid acknowledging in herself. And rather than dwell on that they might have in common she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Was that Tripp I just saw you fighting with?"

Nodding, Will pulled his eyes away from his cousin and looked instead at the air just over her shoulder. That made things easier for her. "Yeah. Don't believe him. It's Ciara, right?"

She nodded but said nothing.

"You've heard about what he did to Paul. Paul is innocent, Ciara. Tripp is lying and I won't let him get away with it."

As her heart sank into her stomach, Ciara willed ice into her veins. She had started this sequence of events. She had gone to Sonny and she had ruined Tripp and she had set up Paul. Now she was going to ruin yet another man's life. And for what? For revenge on people who had done nothing to her?

And the one who had ruined her life, the one who had driven Ciara to the depths of humanity where she now wallowed, she was the one getting off scot-free. As Ciara went around destroying man after man, Claire was sitting pretty and unbothered.

"You're right." There was no bile in Ciara's voice, no venom in her words. She knew the truth and she used that to her advantage. "Paul didn't rape Tripp. He wouldn't. He's being set up."

Will blinked and looked back down at Ciara, but the ice was now dispersed throughout her body. She was collected as she continued.

"I don't know why it's happening. But it isn't fair and we need to do something about it." Ciara grabbed Will's hand and began pulling him to the stone archway in the town square. He followed her, but said nothing. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned back to him. "Going after Tripp like that won't work. Brute force doesn't stop evil. It never truly goes away, not even if you kill it."

She began climbing the stairs. After a few steps, she turned and offered a hand to her confused and silent cousin. He stared at it for a moment before stepping up to take it.

Ciara led Will up the rest of the way until they were at the top of the stairs. She kept hold of his hand, pressing it to her chest. Pushing the guilt to the side, Ciara kept her eyes locked onto the laces of his shoes.

"Paul doesn't deserve this."

"He doesn't," Will agreed, finally speaking. Ciara looked up in shock and saw that Will was no longer radiating heat and anger. He was just strong. He looked directly into her soul and she shuddered despite her best effort to remain still.

Using one hand to keep Will's hand on her chest, Ciara used the other to gently caress his face. None of them deserved what she had done, but she was too far in to stop. Sonny had made that abundantly clear.

Then, she screamed. "NO! WILL! STOP!"

Throwing herself backwards, Ciara watched Will's face and the disbelief that crossed it. She saw the fear creep into his eyes. Then she saw nothing.


End file.
